Darkblade Slayer

by Andy Peloquin

Hailen crinkled his nose. "I didn't like him."

  "He was a very bad man," the Hunter said. "But they don't know that. They want to punish me for that."

  "But you were protecting me, right?"

  "That's right." The Hunter sighed. "And I will keep protecting you, I promise."

  "Even from the monsters?" Hailen whispered, and his eyes went wide.

  "Yes." The Hunter gripped the boy's little hand tight. "Even from the monsters. Nothing is going to happen to you."

  "Okay!" Hailen gave a cheery nod and climbed to his feet. "Can we go riding now? I think Ash is getting bored."

  The Hunter glanced over at the small, grey desert horse. Ash shifted from foot to foot, visibly nervous, as were Elivast and the other three horses. Horses had keen instincts that warned them of the presence of predators; their senses had to be shrieking at them to flee the massive Stone Guardians.

  "You're probably right." The Hunter picked Hailen up, carried him over to Ash, and deposited him in the saddle. "So I think it's time we keep riding."

  "Can I lead?" Excitement pitched Hailen's voice higher.

  The Hunter pretended to think for a moment, then gave a little nod. "What if we both lead? We can ride together."

  "Oh, yes!" Hailen grinned. "Ash and Elivast are good friends, and they like traveling together. The other day, when we were camping in the desert…"

  The Hunter couldn't help smiling at the boy's rambling. It felt good to hear Hailen's high-pitched warbling as he talked incessantly about whatever came to his mind. The boy hadn't looked this good for months, not since the change that had come over him in the Advanat Desert. The day the Hunter discovered his heritage as not just an Elivasti, but a Melechha.

  He turned to Rassek, Darillon, and Evren. "If you don't want to come, I won’t hold it against you. The knight will not harm you. She has come for me and no one else." He didn't mention that the Cambionari had been sent to bring Hailen back to the House of Need.

  Darillon nodded. "So be it. We will—"

  "Be comin’ with ye, we will," Rassek interrupted.

  Darillon's eyebrows rose, and he fixed Rassek with an incredulous gaze. "Really? We're going to keep trusting him even now?"

  Rassek shrugged. "I don’t see why not." He raised an eyebrow at the Hunter. "Are ye goin’ to be murderin’ either of us in our sleep?"

  The Hunter shook his head. "No."

  "Do ye intend to be hurtin’ the young man or the boy?"

  The Hunter's jaw clenched. "No."

  Rassek turned to Darillon. "Good enough fer me, says I."

  "You can't be that naïve to think—"

  Rassek cut him off with a slash of his hand. "It’s not naiveté, Darillon. All of us be havin’ secrets, we are. All of us be havin’ things we are tryin’ to ferget, things we are ashamed of." He gave the older mountaineer a hard look.

  Darillon's face hardened. "Really? You bring that up now? You compare that to killing a priest?"

  Rassek shrugged. "Would a hardened murderer be riskin’ his own life to save ye from fallin’ to yer death?"

  Darillon's mouth froze halfway open, and his retort died unspoken.

  Rassek turned to the Hunter. "We be owin’ ye fer Darillon's life, we are. Both of us. Fer that reason alone, we will be continuin’ on with ye."

  "And the treasures of Enarium have nothing to do with it?" The Hunter grinned.

  The younger mountaineer's face showed no sign of mirth. "If I was believin’ ye a danger to either of us, I would give up all the gold in Aegeos in a heartbeat. Ye may have killed those men, see, but I am not believin’ ye intend on harmin’ us." His gesture encompassed the three of them. "Any of us, says I."

  The Hunter placed a hand over his heart. "You have my word, on the Watcher in the Dark, that you have nothing to fear from me. My only desire is to reach Enarium."

  Rassek fixed him with a long, hard gaze. After a moment, he nodded. "I believe ye." He spoke to Darillon. "Let's go. We need to be puttin’ as much distance between us and those things as possible."

  "Wait." Darillon grabbed Elivast's reins before the Hunter could set the horse into motion. "The knight called you demonspawn. Why?"

  The Hunter gave him a mocking grin. "It seems she's not particularly creative with insults. Or, in her mind, that is the worst thing she could think to call me." A simple explanation, one far easier to accept than the fact that he truly was the spawn of demons. "If we ever meet again, I promise to educate her on proper slander."

  Darillon scowled, but released Elivast's reins.

  The Hunter forced his expression to remain neutral, but the tension in his shoulders relaxed. As he rode out of the cavern, he let out a long, slow breath. Nothing would have stopped him from reaching his goal. Yet, he was surprised to find himself relieved that he didn't have to kill the mountaineers.

  They'll never know how close they came to death.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A tense silence gripped their small group as they continued up the trail. Every time the Hunter glanced over his should to check for any sign of Sir Danna or the Warrior Priests, he found Darillon's eyes burning into his back. Rassek's expression revealed nothing, and Evren seemed fully occupied with staying in his saddle on the winding trail.

  Hailen chattered happily beside the Hunter, but not even his high-pitched voice could drown out the Hunter's worry about the Stone Guardians. He had no idea what had drawn them in the first place. Had it been the presence of humans? The opening of the cliffs? The demonic blood within him? Could the massive creatures see, hear, smell, or feel them as they rode? He knew nothing about them, and that left him uneasy.

  The path continued ever-upward, the ground turning rocky as the incline grew strenuous. Thankfully, the horses could manage most of the way, though more than once they had to dismount to walk over the more rugged sections. The grey limestone crumbled beneath their boots, and the stony shards littering the ground made for hard going.

  The tension hadn't diminished by the time the sun began to set. The Hunter wasn't certain if he should feel relieved that they hadn't seen any sign of Sir Danna, or if they should fear the darkness concealing a horde of Stone Guardians creeping up on them. His nerves were raw, his senses on full alert as they set up camp in a small grotto carved into the cliff walls.

  Rassek chivvied Darillon until the older mountaineer relented and made a small fire, barely enough to provide faint illumination for their small campsite. They ate a cold meal of dried beef and nuts washed down with water gone tepid after a day in the sun. Hailen chattered on as if at a grand feast for a king, accompanying every bite with a steady stream of random observations, pointless questions, and stories he made up on the spot. What the Hunter had once found so annoying now came as a welcome change from the silent, empty-eyed boy of the last two days.

  Darillon sat with his back against the stone, his eyes fixed on the Hunter. His hand never strayed far from his belt dagger, and he'd kept the short sword at his hip since leaving the cave. Rassek's facial expression revealed far less nervousness, but a hint of fear shone in his sidelong glances every time the Hunter moved or spoke.

  Evren simply sat in silence, his face unreadable. He’d given the Hunter a wide berth all day long. Though he hadn't shown any sign of fear at the revelation of the Hunter’s past, his demeanor had changed since their conversation the previous night. He simply treated the Hunter with the same wariness with which he treated anyone—the side effects of his years spent as a thief and the abuse at the hands of the Lecterns.

  The thought filled the Hunter with rage at the Master's priests. The demon sought to fan those flames by filling his head with images that made him sick to his stomach. The Hunter clenched his fists to banish the shrieking voice, but his efforts proved fruitless.

  The curse placed on the Empty Mountains didn't just affect the Abiarazi, it seemed. Whatever had pushed back Hailen's madness also amplified the Hunter's demonic half. If he didn't find Enarium soon, he feared he'd lose his m
ind.

  He dug into his pack and pulled out the Taivoro. He flipped to the passage that had revealed the secrets of the path to Enarium, then kept reading to see if he could find any answers on what to expect now.

  “The way is open

  My love’s most treasured secret parts

  Bared before me

  Yet no peace will we have

  Love denied us

  By guardians of the king.”

  The Hunter’s brow furrowed as he read the story. The Journeyman bard’s passionate encounter with Princess Hylada of Ghandia was cut short by the arrival of the guards set in place by her father, King Draqua. The chapter ended with the singer thinking about his amorous encounter with the Hylada, saying:

  “The lost jewel of my princess

  Danger beyond comprehension

  The heart of a muse

  All who enter her chambers

  Face death and danger

  When the power they use.”

  The story proved as frustratingly cryptic as ever. Could the “guardians of the king” have something to do with the Stone Guardians? If so, how did a detailed description of Enmor’s manhood help him survive or defeat the massive monsters?

  He looked up at Evren and found the youth staring at him. When he raised an eyebrow, the thief quickly dropped his eyes.

  "Evren, can you see if you can find anything else in here that could show us where to go?" The Hunter held out the book.

  Evren's brow furrowed as he reached for the volume. "I can try, but I ain’t rememberin’ anythin’ else odd."

  "Try reading the bit about the king’s guardians and see if that gives you any clues." The Hunter shrugged. "Perhaps it's referring to the Stone Guardians. You know, ‘love denied us by guardians of the King'."

  Evren nodded slowly. "Right." He opened to the page the Hunter had mentioned, tilted the book toward the fire, and began to read.

  The tense silence descended once more, broken only by the crackling of the fire. The absence of Hailen's voice caused the Hunter to turn. The boy had fallen asleep where he sat, a strip of dried beef still clutched in his hands. The excitement of the day must have worn him out.

  The Hunter scooped Hailen up and carried him into the tent. The boy seemed so frail and small in his arms, it almost scared him to think back on how much Hailen had endured since the House of Need. A lump rose in his throat as he settled Hailen gently onto his bedroll and smoothed the hair back from Hailen's forehead.

  "So you don't have a problem with it?"

  The Hunter's sensitive ears picked up Darillon's whisper through the canvas of the tent.

  "We're not fer makin’ friends with him, Darillon," Rassek rejoined, his voice equally low. No doubt they thought they spoke quietly enough to avoid being overheard, but they hadn't counted on his inhumanly keen hearing.

  The Hunter listened to the two men speaking.

  "Listen, I know ye’re suspicious of him," Rassek was saying. "But even if he did kill that knight's friends, that don’t mean he's goin’ to be harmin’ us. Even mild-mannered men can be pushed to extremes, they can."

  "Mild-mannered?" Darillon snorted. "You saw his sword and dagger, the way he brushed aside our swords like they were elm switches. That's a man who's seen more than his fair share of death. Probably caused it, too."

  The mountaineer had no clue how true his words were. The Hunter had lost count of the people he'd killed as the legendary assassin of Voramis. In the last months alone, the number of deaths on his head numbered more than a hundred.

  "Fair enough," Rassek whispered. "But ye’ve seen him with the boy. A man like that just isn't bein’ capable of murderin’ a man in cold blood."

  Once, the Hunter would have argued. He'd killed many, many people for no other reason than that he'd been paid to. Now, he wasn't so certain. The death of Farida and the others had begun a change in him, and Hailen's presence had continued the change. He still killed, yet he could no longer say he did it without compunction. His interaction with the Sage and the Warmaster had shown him at least one way he truly was different than his Abiarazi ancestors. They killed without remorse or reason.

  He emerged from the tent and strode over toward the two men. Darillon's hand flew to the sword at his belt, and even Rassek reached for a dagger.

  The Hunter spoke in a low voice. "Let me tell you the truth of who I really am. I am a man on a mission." He thrust a finger toward his tent. "My mission is to get that child to Enarium. You saw what happened at the lake, and the effect it had on him."

  Rassek nodded. "Aye." The word came out tight, with an edge of anxiety. Darillon's hand gripped the hilt of his sword, and he seemed a heartbeat from drawing it.

  "The child is unlike any other on Einan," the Hunter continued. "He is special, and it is my duty to see that he arrives safely in Enarium."

  Darillon's face hardened. "And we're just supposed to believe you? After you lied to us—"

  "I did not lie." The Hunter shook his head. "You never bothered to ask." Not that he would have told them the truth. They would think his story of hunting demons and preventing the return of Kharna the ravings of a madman. Bloody hell, a few months ago he had called Father Reverentus mad for speaking of such things.

  "You concealed the truth from us," Darillon growled.

  "So tell me your deep, dark secrets." The Hunter folded his arms. "Surely there is something you have been concealing from me."

  Rassek's tense expression relaxed, and a little grin split his lips. "He's got ye there, Darillon."

  The older mountaineer scowled. "You know what I mean. If you knew you had the bloody Warrior Priests after you, you ought to have told us."

  "Perhaps." The Hunter shrugged. "Or perhaps I made the right choice by not revealing that fact. After all, we never would have come this far had you known the truth." He dropped his voice. "You would not be riding up the road to the Lost City of Enarium at this moment."

  "We'd probably be haulin’ some lard-ass nobleman ‘round the finer trails to the east." Rassek's grin grew to a smile. "I'd take this any day of the week, says I."

  The Hunter met Darillon's gaze without flinching. "You can trust that I will not betray you. You can trust that I will not attack you, nor will I seek to harm you." His eyes narrowed. "But you can also trust that I will let nothing stand in my way of bringing that boy to safety. The fact that I have killed is precisely why I am the one best-suited to being his protector."

  It wasn't entirely a lie. The Hunter truly did believe himself the one best-suited to care for Hailen, at least until he found a way to break the Elivasti's curse and free him from the Irrsinnon.

  Father Reverentus' words echoed in his mind. "The Melechha’s blood is the only thing powerful enough to seal Kharna in his prison forever. If he truly is a Melechha, that boy is the weapon to defeat the Destroyer once and for all."

  The old Beggar Priest had been the one to set him on this quest all those months ago. Father Reverentus had sought him out, had recruited him to slay the demons in Voramis. That act had led him down the path to Malandria, Al Hani, Shana Laal, and finally here. Ever since meeting the boy in Malandria, he had known Hailen was special. Every new discovery—from his power in the Dolmenrath to his Elivasti heritage to the fact that he was Melechha—had led to the ultimate truth: Hailen had to get to Enarium.

  If Father Reverentus was right, Hailen could be the key to putting an end to Kharna once and for all. The Hunter might kill the Sage and put an end to the demon's plans, but only Hailen's blood would defeat the Destroyer himself.

  The fate of the world literally rested on Hailen's shoulders. A child no more than seven years old, touched by the Illusionist, cursed by his Serenii ancestors, and too innocent and naïve to understand the dangers that surrounded him. Who better than a killer to protect something of such importance?

  Rassek's expression grew solemn. "That’s bein’ enough fer me, says I." He turned to Darillon. "Can ye say ye would do any different in his situation?"<
br />
  Darillon's face hardened. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, he gave a little shrug of his shoulders, stood, and went into his tent.

  For long moments, silence fell on the camp. Rassek's eyes remained fixed on their shelter, his expression unreadable. Finally, he looked back at the Hunter with a wry grin. "Ye've nothin’ to be fearin’ from us, Hardwell."

  "And you have nothing to fear from me," the Hunter said.

  "That's as much as a man can be askin’ fer." Nodding, Rassek stood and followed his partner into the tent.

  The Hunter took a seat and leaned back against the wall of the canyon. He closed his eyes, letting out his breath silently, and the tension drained from his shoulders.

  Why did he care what these men thought of him? Why did it matter that they trusted him? The Hunter of Voramis, legendary assassin, hadn't given two shites about what anyone said about him. Bloody hell, the more they feared him, the better.

  So why was the Hunter who sat on the rocky slopes of the Empty Mountains any different?

  He'd changed. The deaths of the beggars in Voramis had shown him how much he hated the thought of being alone. Bardin had proven that people could be more than just a tool to use or blood to feed Soulhunger. Hailen made him believe that there truly was a shred of hope for a better future.

  Thoughts of the future sent his mind racing ahead toward Enarium. He felt Her presence tugging in his mind, faint beneath the shrieking of the demon. He couldn't help feeling nervous as he drew closer to the city. To Her.

  What would She be like? After all this time, would She remember him? Had She found someone else? That thought sent a spike of panic into his mind. All this time, he'd never given any thought to what had happened to Her in the thousands of years they'd spent apart. What had happened to their son? What manner of man had he turned into?

  These and many more questions whirled in his mind, a hurricane of doubt, anxiety, and trepidation. Much as he wanted to reach Enarium, he also dreaded what he'd find.

  "Hardwell?"

  Evren's voice pierced the maelstrom of his thoughts. It took him a moment to focus on the boy's face.